


Dulcibus Veritas

by seriousshit88



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousshit88/pseuds/seriousshit88
Summary: Scott and Stiles reunite for the holidays.





	Dulcibus Veritas

Scott laughed affectionately into the phone. “Yeah, don’t worry, Mom. The house is fine. I’m not going to burn it down.”

He heard a car door close outside, along with some muffled muttering and a loud thump. Scott peeked outside the window by the front door.

“Mom, I gotta go get Stiles off the curb before he starts making out with Roscoe right in the street. Tell everybody I said Merry Christmas. Love you!”

After exchanging a few more goodbyes with his mother, Scott finally hung up the phone and opened the front door to see Stiles draped over the Jeep’s hood.

“Do you mind? The neighbors might start to talk.”

“Scott! Buddy! Dude!” Stiles stopped cuddling the Jeep long enough to run up the front porch stairs and wrap Scott in a warm hug. A warm, tight hug. A warm, tight, lung-crushing hug. Stiles had obviously put on more muscle since Scott last saw him, and, well, Scott felt paradoxically looser after Stiles finally released him. Like his insides had gone from plain pretzel to warm caramel. It was nice in a way that Scott gave up trying to figure out a long time ago.

“Hi, Stiles,” Scott said, surreptitiously squeezing Stiles’s right bicep. _Impressive_. “How was the flight? Besides delayed?”

“Boring. I slept the whole way. Now, the Lyft ride over here, that’s another story. The guy would not shut up. Christmas Eve this, peace and goodwill that. Way too much forced sentiment. I was two seconds away from literally saying, ‘Bah, humbug!’ before he pulled up to your house.”

“Forced sentiment notwithstanding, I’m glad you made it. I was beginning to think you couldn’t come.” 

“I’ll still never get why you didn’t leave with your mom and Chris. It’s a free trip to Paris, Scott. How hard was it to pass that up?”

“Not hard at all. You wouldn’t be there,” Scott said. He nudged Stiles’s shoulder with his own, not bothering to hide the smile he felt like giving him. God, it felt good to see Stiles in person and not on a phone or laptop screen with thousands of miles between them.

“Oh, come on,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes, “I am definitely not worth missing a free trip to Paris.”

“I beg to differ. Hey, are you leaving your bag here, or do you want to stop by your place on the way?”

“I’ll just stow it in the Jeep and decide later. I already called Dad and let him know I’m safe and sound. Now, toss me the keys. I’m driving.”

“You don’t even know where the restaurant is.”

“We have the address. Gimme the keys.”

Scott sighed and locked up the house. Then he dropped the keys into Stiles’s eager hand.

The look on Stiles’s face when he started Roscoe for the first time in almost a year was definitely memorable.

Scott wasn’t the tiniest bit jealous at all.

Nope.

❄️❄️❄️

“Are you sure this is the address?” Scott asked, as Stiles brought the Jeep to a stop.

“Yes, I’m sure. This is the address on the flyer.” The name _Hannah’s_ topped the worn sheet of paper, but there was no corresponding signage saying the same.

“But all I see is a brick wall. There’s nothing else out here.”

Stiles grabbed the flyer from Scott and stared at it. “This is definitely the address.” 

“We don’t have to do this. It’s really not a big deal. Let’s just go back to my house, order a pizza or something-”

“No. We’re having a real dinner tonight, Scott. I haven’t seen you since April, and now that we’ve got the rare opportunity to both be home at the same time, I’m taking advantage of it. We just have to put our heads together. That’s all. We’re good at that, remember? It’s our thing.”

“Our thing? We have a thing?”

Stiles held up the flyer. “You said Derek gave this to you?”

“Yeah. He got it from an old witch he knows. Her name’s Hannah, and they have tea together sometimes.”

“I’m gonna file that knowledge away for riffing on later,” Stiles smirked. “So, if it’s from a witch, maybe there’s a supernatural element involved that we just can’t see.”

“I see a brick wall.”

“But what do your elf eyes see?”

Scott knew Stiles well enough to guess where he was going. After many years of practice, the alpha vision came instinctively. He briefly closed his eyes and let the wolf surface just a little. A small thrum of power sang along his nerves in response. When he opened his eyes, Scott’s breath caught in his throat.

“Oh, my God,” Scott said. “It's not a wall.”

“Well? What is it?”

“Theres, like, this thing that’s glowing? A glowing archway?”

“Aha! I knew it! I swear to God, this never gets old!” Stiles jumped out of the Jeep, and Scott followed. 

Once they were at the wall that wasn’t a wall, they stopped.

“So, do we just walk in? Like Harry Potter?” Scott tried to touch the bricks he knew were supposed to be there, but his hand never made contact with the wall.

“Your hand just disappeared into a brick wall, and I’m going to be honest here, that’s the least weird thing that’s ever happened to us. I say we go for it.” Stiles strode forward...and smacked into brick. “Ow.”

“The door’s over here,” Scott said. He bit his lip to stave off the laugh he knew was coming. Before Stiles could say anything defensively, Scott grabbed his hand and pulled him along through the doorway.

❄️❄️❄️

For a restaurant catering to the supernatural community and run by a family of witches, Scott expected the place to be a bit more weird. Maybe some goth or spooky theming, creepy lighting, episodes of Bewitched playing on a TV over the bar, anything other than the Christmasy family restaurant he and Stiles walked into. Hannah’s could pass very easily for an Olive Garden. There was even a host’s podium, though no one was manning it.

“Kind of a let down,” Stiles groused, absently rubbing his nose.

“Does it still hurt? Let me see.” Stiles put up minimal fuss as Scott took a quick look.

“Missed the door, did we?”

Scott and Stiles looked up to see a tiny old woman, wearing the most obnoxious Christmas sweater ever, smiling at them from the podium. She most definitely hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

“Maybe you should put a sign on it,” Stiles suggested, bemusement evident all over his face.

“And how would we keep out the riff raff?”

“Riff raff?” Stiles repeated, indignant.

The old woman’s smile grew even larger. “Derek told me you’d be easy to rile up if I ever met you. I’m just kidding.”

Recognition finally dawned on Scott. “You’re Hannah!” he exclaimed.

“Right you are, Mr. McCall, and it’s wonderful to finally get the chance to see the True Alpha of Beacon Hills. The invitation was only for one, but since you’ve brought a date, would you like a table for two?”

“Date?” Scott and Stiles repeated simultaneously.

Hannah glanced downward. Scott was still holding Stiles’s hand.

“Oh, um…” he and Stiles exchanged a look before dropping their hands. “We aren’t on a date. Stiles is in town and we decided to, you know, hang out. For the holidays.”

“Hmm,” Hannah said as she grabbed a couple of menus. “In any case, we’re happy to see you. And don’t worry, your entire meal is comped. Derek said he’d pay me for the whole thing. Follow me, gentlemen.”

Hannah led them into the restaurant proper and sat them at small table. There were other people eating; many of them appeared to be families out enjoying a holiday meal. 

“Is everyone here, you know…” Stiles squinted as he tried to find the right words. “Magically inclined?”

“No, not at all, Mr. Stilinski.” Hannah winked at him and bustled off to find them a waiter.

“Why does she keep messing with me?”

“She’s friends with Derek. What do you expect?” Scott said. A wadded napkin flew toward his side of the table, but he blocked it with his menu. “She’s also a very powerful witch from what I hear, so if you don’t want to see how she’d make you clean up her lovely establishment, you should probably stop throwing napkins around.”

“Well, maybe I’d know how to behave if you took me out more often.”

“Took you- Stiles, we live on opposite sides of the continent. How would that work, exactly?”

“I dunno. A teleportation spell or something. A wormhole. A rift between planes of reality that doesn’t lead to certain death or wiping people from existence.”

Scott heard a little sadness in Stiles’s voice, so he tilted the menu down just enough to see if he was still okay. The urge to reach out and hold Stiles’s hand (what, twice in one night?) nagged at him.

“Skype not doing it for you anymore?”

Instead of answering, Stiles huffed and picked up his own menu. “If Derek’s paying, I’m getting the most expensive thing here. Serves him right for trash talking me to his knitting group.”

A little while later, their waiter arrived and took their orders. 

While waiting for their food, they took the time to catch up over beers. Of course, between texting and video chatting they managed to stay in touch with each other. But it wasn’t the same. Here, in the same room, Scott could savor every twitchy gesture and small quirk of Stiles’s long fingers against his glass, hear every rustle of clothing, smell the distinctively comforting scent of Stiles that wrapped around him like a long lost favorite blanket.

“-and I somehow passed the physical. Hey. Earth to Scott. Hello?” Stiles thumped Scott on the arm.

Scott blinked. “Oh, huh?”

“Where were you?” Stiles asked, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

 _You_. “Nothing. Sorry, I’m listening. I promise. Go on.”

Scott tried not to let his mind wander too much while Stiles talked. It was becoming harder and harder to concentrate with Stiles unknowingly bombarding his senses is such a pleasant way. The food arriving was a blessing. In more ways than one.

“Don’t tell my mom,” Scott said around a mouth full of potatoes, “but this is the best meatloaf and mashed potatoes I’ve ever had. Like, I can’t even describe how good this is. Remind me to thank Derek later.”

Stiles nodded. “Seriously. This steak? I’m pretty sure is was sliced off the rear end of joy itself.”

Scott swallowed and moaned a little. He couldn’t help himself. “Dude, if feels like an orgasm keeps happening in my mouth.”

A choking noise across the table made Scott look up from his plate.

After guzzling half his beer, Stiles pointed to his throat. “Choked on my steak a little,” he coughed.

“Small bites,” Scott said helpfully as he dove back into his own food.

When it was all said and done, their plates were polished bare. Not a crumb of anything remained. They barely even talked through the meal except to comment on how tasty it was.

“That was unreal,” Stiles said.

“Yeah,” Scott agreed. His taste buds were still ringing in the afterglow of deliciousness.

“I’m glad you brought me here. I was ready to write this place off,” Stiles chuckled. “Hey, I think my beer went right through me. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Scott watched him head off toward the restrooms.

“You’re smiling to yourself,” a voice said next to Scott’s ear.

He jumped a little and saw Hannah standing there.

“How did you...I mean-”

“How was your meal?” Hannah laughed.

Scott willed his heart to resume a normal, less freaked out rhythm. “Um, it was really, really good. The best I’ve had.”

“That’s high praise. Do you mind if we quote you in the marketing materials? Haha, I’m kidding! Are you and your date staying for dessert?”

What was with her? “He’s not my date.”

“Okay.” She patted Scott’s shoulder and went to a nearby table to check on some other customers.

Stiles returned a little bit later, his face alight for some reason. 

“A guy in the bathroom told me to ask for the secret menu. So, of course, we gotta.”

Scott blinked at him. “A guy? In the bathroom?”

“Yes. Where’s our waiter?”

“Secret menus are rarely real, Stiles.”

“The bathroom guy swore by this one. He insisted we try it.”

“So what’s on it?” Scott asked. Because he couldn’t believe this.

Stiles gestured vaguely at Scott’s face. “Wow, you look exactly like your mom when you do that incredulous thing with the eyebrows and stuff.”

“You didn’t ask what was on this secret menu, did you?”

“No. It was weird enough that he wanted to talk to me while we were both peeing. I didn’t want details.”

Scott grinned despite himself. Luckily, Stiles didn’t see him because he was busy trying to get the waiter’s attention, who, for some reason, expressed hesitation when Stiles asked to see the secret menu.

“See, I told you it wasn’t real,” Scott said.

“Actually,” the waiter hedged, “it sort of is. But we’re not supposed to give it to anyone who hasn’t been screened first.”

Stiles’s eyes narrowed. “Screened? Okay, now I _have_ to see it.”

The waiter looked around furtively before unfolding a sheet of paper from her pocket. She slid it on the table and hurried away.

Scott snatched it up before Stiles could get his hands on it. 

“Well? What’s on it?” Stiles asked, leaning forward almost halfway across the table.

“You’re going to be really disappointed,” Scott said. “Apple pie, chocolate cake, strawberry cheesecake, creme brulee, and milkshakes. It’s a dessert menu.”

Stiles slumped back in his chair. “Find the most expensive one and order it for me. Derek’s paying for this, too.”

Scott ordered two creme brulees. The waiter looked between the two of them.  
“Are you sure? The creme brulee?”

“Is there something wrong with it?” Scott asked. He sensed nothing but apprehension pouring off of her. “Should we order something else?”

She stiffened. “Oh, God, no. The others are much, much worse. I’ll be right back.”

“If they’re crappy, at least-

“-Derek’s paying for it, I know, I know.”

Stiles kicked his shin under the table.

Their desserts arrived worryingly fast.

Scott tapped the side of his ramekin. “Maybe we shouldn’t eat these. I’m actually getting a bad feeling about this.”

“C’mon, Scotty. Live a little!” Stiles cracked the toasted sugar layer on top and dug in. Scott watched with his full attention, waiting for the slightest sign of distress.

Instead, Stiles hummed appreciatively. He licked his spoon with a sort of wanton lasciviousness that hit Scott right in the gut.

“If you don’t stop gawking, I’m going to eat yours, too,” Stiles warned him.

Scott tentatively tasted a spoonful of the custardy dessert.

“Wow,” he said. “This is...this is…”

“God, I know.”

It was indescribable. Scott had never eaten something so sublime. He felt as though he was floating a couple of inches off his chair. He touched the bottom of his seat just to make sure he wasn’t.

In no time, their spoons clanked around inside empty ramekins.

“See, _this_ is the stuff we couldn’t do over Skype,” Stiles said, licking the last bits of cream off of his face like a delightedly satisfied cat. “You have no idea how much I love you right now.” Stiles said. “And, um, hanging out with you. Love hanging out with you.” His face went beet red.

The faint notes of embarrassment tickled Scott’s senses. It took him a second to realize Stiles was the source.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles shrugged. “I just confessed to loving you.” His eyes went wide. “I mean...I’m in love with you.” He stopped and looked at Scott, alarmed. 

“Dude, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t mean to say any of that!”

A thought occurred to Scott. “Where is Hannah?”

“Truth spell creme brulee,” Hannah beamed as she swished over from somewhere behind Stiles. “One of the milder offerings on our secret menu.”

“I’m sorry. What?” Surely Scott shouldn’t be surprised by these things anymore, but he still couldn’t believe his ears.

“A truth spell. Just a fun little amusement to cap off a nice meal. It doesn’t make you say anything you aren’t already thinking, so don’t worry. It’s not one of _those_ spells. The effects only last a few minutes in most cases.”

“There it is. There’s the weirdness. I knew this place seemed too normal. This is the last time I take dinner advice from a strange man standing next to me with his dick out,” Stiles grumbled.

“Normal is relative, Mr. Stilinski.”

“We ordered from a secret menu in a restaurant run by witches. We really should have seen this coming,” Scott sighed. “And what do you mean ‘most cases?’ What happens in the other cases? Are we going to be okay?”

Hannah merely grinned in response.

“Why are you worried?” Stiles whined. “You haven’t said anything weird. Maybe you’re immune thanks to the wolfiness. What if I have to suffer this embarrassment alone? What if it’s just me who’s affected?”

“Werewolves don’t always respond predictably to these kinds of spells, but you can ask him a question and find out,” Hannah said.

“All right. Scott, what’d you get me for Hanukkah?”

Scott took a deep breath. “A phone case, a new wallet, two Amazon gift cards, $25 cash, a giant chocolate chip cookie, a year’s subscription to Netflix, and a framed photo of us from when we were kids.”

He froze. He really hadn’t meant to say any of that. It just came pouring out, bypassing his brain altogether.

“I guess that answers that question,” Stiles said. “Nice choice of gifts, by the way.”

“I’ll leave you two boys alone,” Hannah spun around and practically disappeared on the spot. Honestly, Scott was convinced that’s literally what she did.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the surprise. I was going to give them to you all at once so you could open one every night. I don’t know when we’ll be together again.”

Stiles’ eyes went soft. “Aww,” he cooed.

Scott felt the words coming, but there was nothing he could do to stop them. “Did you know you have really pretty eyes?” He groaned and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“You do, too. And a nice butt ohmygod,” Stiles winced.

“I don’t want you to leave me again.” And with those desperate words, Scott buried his face in his hands.

“Hey,” Stiles gently pulled Scott’s hands down. “Do you want to leave?”

Scott nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

❄️❄️❄️

Once back outside and in the Jeep, Scott felt it was safe to say something.

“If anything I’ve said or might say makes you uncomfortable, please let me know.”

Stiles cast a sidelong glance at Scott. “You’ve done nothing but compliment me. Why would I try to stop you? Besides, do you have any idea how cute you are when your ears turn red like that?”

“Stiles, I’m serious.”

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I missed you, too, Scott. Those things we said only made me realize how much I really hate being away from you for too long. It’s a distance I can _feel_ , you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Scott gave in to his compulsion from earlier and took Stiles’s hand in his. “Whether it’s a pack bond, best friend bond, or...something else, I can’t explain it. But it hurts when you’re not around.”

“Is that you talking, or the creme brulee?”

“I don’t even know. Probably both?” Scott said, rubbing his thumb across Stiles’s knuckles.

“It’s kind of a relief, really. I’ve been holding this in since I last saw you. It was too hard, leaving last time.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

Stiles’ gaze flicked to Scott’s lips then back up to meet his eyes. “I want to kiss you.”

“Are you going to regret this later? I mean, we’ve both said some things I don’t think we can ever take back.”

“You tell me.” And with that, Stiles closed the narrow distance between them and pressed his lips to Scott’s. It was a shy movement that almost made Scott’s heart ache with how tender and sweet it was. Suddenly, Stiles pulled away.

“What are you doing?” Scott asked, confused. “I thought we were having a moment.”

“I have to be sure this is what you want and not the result of magic messing with our heads.”

“How about this for a confession: when you hugged me on the porch earlier, I felt your muscles and got a little turned on.”

With a soft growl, Stiles immediately recaptured Scott’s lips. This kiss was less shy, and Scott found himself opening up for Stiles, easily letting him inside. He’d already granted Stiles access to his heart; why not this, too? Stiles still tasted faintly of cream and vanilla, and Scott chased his lips for more. This kiss was warm, sweet, and so, so easy. 

“You taste good. Smell good, too. That’s more of a wolf thing, though,” Scott observed as they broke away for a little air.

“I was going to leave Hannah a bad review on Yelp or whatever the witch equivalent is, but maybe this is something that needed to happen, you know?”

“Like ripping off a band-aid. It was about time, I guess.”

Stiles nuzzled in close. “Let’s take this back to your house. I think Santa got you something kinda awesome this year.” 

“Oh?” Scott smiled and kissed Stiles again. Wow, this was something they could do, now. Wow. “What is it?”

“Hmmm, how about we go find out?”

With Stiles refusing to answer the question, the creme brulee appeared to have worn off for him, at least. Neither of them minded. They didn’t need a magical intervention for what was coming next.

Scott’s familiar with time making the heart grow fonder (among other cliches), but sometimes? All anyone ever really needed was a little dessert.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Divvy for being a last-minute beta. She helped me out when my brain was too fried to do much of anything on its own, lol.
> 
> Zeeyum, I hope you enjoy the fic, and have a happy holiday! <3


End file.
